Six more weeks of winter
by Myojo-s-me
Summary: Wanderweiss Margera x Hinamori Momo; Tousen, random GrimmjawApache.
1. 1st week

Hell yeah this time it's Wanderweiss I'm pairing up with her... Hana and Rikichi aren't enough XD Talking of Rikichi, does anyone 'round here have any idea how to add characters to thecharacter lists?

And before I forget it again: I'd really love reviews..

* * *

A voice yelled, breaking silence of the sanded plains of Hueco Mundo. 

"Retreat!"

But there wasn't anyone left to react. She was alone. Not quite, though. One person was still standing... The arrancar that had killed her subordinates. People, she had been in charge of. People, she should have led to the safety of the shinigami main camp. Not many, only two medics, five wounded and four men that had been sent along to protect the others.

But now they were all death.

And she was alone. Alone under this dark sky, alone in the cold air, alone with only the corpses of the others around her. Standing right in front of the guy that had just murdered them.

In the desperate attempt to suppress her tears, her fingers clenched around Tobiumes hilt. "Don't you come near me!" She breathed hard, not allowing her eyes to let go of his figure to watch her comrades. "I'll kill you!" She knew far too well that she couldn't. Although having grown stronger since she had awaken from her coma, her strength still hadn't fully recovered. Not to mention that this arrancar seemed to be of an espadas level, which she wouldn't have been a match for even before her injure. If just Shiro-chan was here... She dismissed the thought the time it had appeared. He, being the captain he was, had other duties to do... He and his strength were needed elsewhere as well. This had been her responsibility... And she had failed.

Again.

But why was she still alive? The assailant could have killed her easily, but instead he was just standing there, watching her with a ... what was it? She wondered. A expression of curiosity? It was similar to the face Rukia had made when she had tried to explain Renjis feeling to her. Total lack of understanding. Interest. The desperate _will _to understand. But... Rukia hadn't looked _that _ retarded...

What ever it was, she wouldn't let him kill her as easy as he had killed the others. He hadn't the advantage of surprise anymore; and she would make slaying her as hard as possible to him.

"Snap, Tobiu-"

She flinched, when slender fingers touched her bun from behind. How fast was this guys sonido? And what the hell was he just doing?

She didn't wait to find out, but swung her soul slayer, despite its still unreleased state, around. Maybe she could hit him now he was distracted-

The blade was stopped in an instant. White fabric fluttered to the ground where Tobiume had met white striped boots. Sudden pain burst into her neck, and then everything went black.

* * *

She awoke in total darkness. Panic arising within her, she sat up, her hands reaching out in the desperate attempt to touch _anything,_ just to be sure she wasn't caught in the nothingness of death... and touched something soft and fluffy. She tried to figure out what it was and, after calming down a little bit, came to the conclusion that it had to be hair. Human (or shinigami or whatever) hair. She could feel it. 

So she couldn't be dead, right?

But... if she wasn't... where was she? Now, that she was thinking more clearly, she realized that it wasn't an all over darkness but that of a room with only one small window high above at night. She couldn't see the moon, but his dim light entered the room from outside, and as soon as she got used to the low-lit room, she looked down at the person lying next to her. And froze.

The shining white of his clothes didn't contrast at all with the white of the floor, and, as she finally noticed, the walls and the ceiling. Everything seemed to be pure white, everything except herself. She was a black spot to all the cruel white. She was the single thing in this room that was different... even the boys (she was sure he was male, and he didn't look too old, as far as she could tell by watching his back) hair seemed white in the moonlight. How had she come here?

And how was she supposed to get out? There was, to what she could see from her point of view, no entrance or exit, and even if the arrancar seemed to sleep now, he probably would wake up as soon as she stood up. Where should she have gone to anyway? It wasn't that she knew Las Noches well.. To be exact, not at all. Not more then Rukia and Renji had told her about it. It was enough to know where she was, but far too less to leave.

Hinamori forced herself back to the first question. What had happened? What was she doing here, why was an arrancar-

The boy sat up, turning towards her. His eyes were slits, almost closed, but the girl could sense the interest that lay behind those eyelids.

And suddenly, she remembered. It all came back at once, and she cringed.

Red soaking the sand.

They had fallen too fast to follow; when she had seen them, most of them had already been dead.

The smell of blood.

And_ him_.

The vision had burned itself into her mind. His blond hair fluttering lightly in the wind, the white mask shadowing his eyes, the bloodstained white robe with the opening at the chest, exposing the hollow hole. The bloodstained hands, holding the bloodstained purple soul slayer that had just slit the other shinigami. The still raised hand which had fired the cero that had killed the others. Also the freckles that made his features such innocent despite the blood. The prominent buckteeth that added to this impression.

Her fists clenched. "You!" She winced at the sound of her own voice. It was hoarse, as if she had been crying all day. But she hadn't...? Then she realized what it was. Thirst. Mere lack of water made her vocal cords feel all sore and excoriated. But she ignored it. "Why...?" It was impossible to her to talk more than that. She felt like crying but couldn't, felt like screaming at the blond, like throwing things at him or hitting him with her bare fists. She hated the fact that Tobiume wasn't at her hands. That it was nowhere in the room... Though she could sense that it wasn't destroyed yet, which gave her some relief.

The boy reached out for her, but stopped when she tried to slap it. A frustrated sound that demanded an explanation followed.

Had this stupid kid any idea what he had just_ done_? She pressed her lips together, tucked up her legs and clasped her arms around them. Her eyes stared at him furiously, carrying a hatred that caused the boy to withdraw his hand and look at her in confusion. He really had no idea, had he?

They sat there, neither of them moving. She had no idea how long, having no way to measure time then counting her own heartbeat which wasn't really an option, but it seemed like eternity and didn't finish before she fell asleep again. She had tried to stay awake, not knowing what would happen if she slept, but sorrow, thirst, hunger and general exhaustion made her too body too weak to follow her brains commands.


	2. Disaccord

To all who have reviewed so far: Thank you so much, it means a lot to me, really keeps the story going... And this pairing needs love

* * *

Wanderweiss worried. He really, really worried, for maybe the first time in his life. Not only that the girl he had picked up outside didn't seem to like him (yes, Hinamori had been right. The numero didn't understand her feelings. How could he? Pity and all other feelings of sympathy were totally alien to him. Hollows didn't have such naturally, and there was nobody he could possibly have learned it from. Everyone around him was a Hollow as well). And, much more, she became weaker and weaker every hour. He sat there, watching her asleep or awake, eventually untying her bun to find out how the hair beneath it felt like, and had to notice that she didn't recover at all. She didn't stop being mad at him, either.

This was the longest time he had been interested in the same thing ever. For normal, he would have been distracted after the first few hours, but this girl... She was different. Just... different.

The second day passed, and in the evening, he decided that something was wrong with her. Something he couldn't deal with by himself. Something he needed help to fix. Something Tousen would help him with.

He left the sleeping girl, hurrying down the corridors, towards the black male's room. He slipped in without a noise, shutting the door behind him, then knocking at the inside. It was something like a habit, nothing more; the taller man sensed his coming always long before he even entered the room. But it was also something he wouldn't miss. Never. It was the only constant in his life.

"Wanderweiss." He loved this voice, it was so caring and mild. "I heard you had a small encounter with some shinigami?"

The arrancar stepped forward, grabbing the man's left hand. "Aouuuuu!" He pulled the man towards the door. No time to talk! The brown haired girl needed their help!

"What is it?" Light bewilderment resonated in the words.

He pulled even more vehemently. No questions! They had to go!

"Don't worry. I'm coming..."

This was enough to the boy, and he used sonido to go back to the hidden room Hinamori was in. The former captain, flash-stepping directly after him, had trouble to keep track of his fast movements."Where are we going to?"

"Shi---rooou---chaa--n." Wanderweiss had listened to her carefully, trying to remember the few words she spoke, mostly while she was asleep. This one had been there about three times, so he considered it to be something very important to her; most likely her name, that was.

At least this was the boy's train of thoughts. Even if similar to Tousen's, it wasn't the same... Which in this case meant that they thought of different people in the end. "You're sure?" It sounded slightly shocked.

Which confused Wanderweiss. "Au! ... Ouuu?"

The taller man narrowed his eyes slightly. If it really was Hitsugaya, Tousen would have to tell Aizen about it. He didn't really want to, as the kid he sometimes thought of as a son seemed to be really concerned about the shinigami, much more seriously than he had seen it ever before. But if it was, there was no way...

Never before in his life the man had wished harder to be proven wrong.

* * *

She knew, knew with a clearness she had never ever experienced before, that she was about to die. As simple as this conclusion was, it had taken her a long time to come up with it, partly because she didn't want to accept it, partly because it seemed so ridiculous. She had met situations of mortal danger too many times during the winter war, she had survived the fatal wound her former captain had inflicted on her when he left for Hueco Mundo. And now, finally, she was to die before she even reached maturity, but not in battle. Not by a hollow's hands. Not by i anyone's /i hands.

The last person to touch her would, most likely, be that murderous blond arrancar. She couldn't hinder the curious touches of him anymore, even turning her face away when he reached out to let his fingers trail over her cheeks towards her lips or hair, was too hard to afford.

"He really seems to like my hair..." she thought bitterly when he once again playfully examined it, obviously trying to be as gentle as he was able to. Apparently, he didn't want to hurt her. So at least she was to starve to death in safety. How utterly comforting.

Hinamori hated him. She still didn't know his name, but she knew his face far too well by now. She hated everything about it, especially the seemingly innocent facial expression of his, this hypocritical childish attitude. This even more hypocritical worried concern in his eyes. These unbelievably soft fingers.

Every hour they spent in the white prison of hers this hatred grew. There was no way to get rid of it. In the beginning, she had tried to express it with words, actions. The words he hadn't understood, the actions he had simply dodged. When she had become too exhausted and weak to go on with this, she had still continued to glare at him with hateful eyes.

And now he had left.

Left her alone.

Alone in this world of white, pure white, of nothingness, this prison without any features she could cling to now there was nothing with her.

She would die alone.

Even if she wouldn't have admitted it, not to anyone else and least to herself, she had taken comfort in his presence, in the simple presence of this not actually living but alive being.

And now he was gone.


End file.
